173: Chapter 173 Breakthrough in Cultivation

The next instant—the Soul fires flickering in their eye sockets were extinguished silently, like candles in the wind.

Under the crushing force of the Sword Intent, their indestructible bones turned into fly ash, silently and steadily falling away like sand piles meeting water.

This sudden clearing of the field was like building an invisible dam in a rushing river of blood.

The surging tide of skeletons behind them faltered; those frantically flickering Soul fires trembled in unison, as if, at this moment, even death itself felt fear.

The Eternal Graveyard, previously filled with endless shrieks, fell into a deathly silence.

However, this moment of peace was bought with Xuanyuan Zhanxian's life.

He hunched over violently and spat out a mouthful of blood. The blood mist permeated the air, mixed with fragments of his internal organs, splashing onto the ground where it was greedily swallowed by the parched, bloody soil, leaving not even a trace.

His face was pale as paper, his lips cracked and devoid of color.

His aura was as weak as a candle about to go out, flickering in the wind, ready to dissipate completely at any moment.

He knelt half-way on the ground, his hands gripping the sword hilt so tightly that his knuckles were twisted and white from the strain, his bones emitting a creaking, mournful sound.

Only by relying on this sword to support him did he not collapse.

But this brief vacuum—and that peerless Sword Intent capable of severing the heavens and destroying the earth—were like a spark thrown into boiling oil, completely igniting the long-suppressed greed of all the onlookers!

"Now is the time! He has exhausted his strength!"

"Attack! Don't let Second Prince Wu Yuanchen get ahead!"

Almost at the same instant, several figures erupted from different directions!

Their hidden auras exploded forth, like Vicious Beasts that had been dormant for a long time finally baring their fangs!

Senior Brother Li Yunxiao and his two companions from Penglai were the first to make a move.

The moment they retracted their concealment veils, three killing moves were unleashed simultaneously—

Senior Brother Li Yunxiao's sword turned into a net, the sword light interweaving like the sky pressing down, bringing a suffocating sense of oppression as it shrouded Xuanyuan Zhanxian.

The Cultivator beside him sacrificed a sinister chain, wreathed in black Qi like a venomous snake flicking its tongue, aiming straight for his collarbone.

The short, stout Cultivator threw all his fire talismans, causing dozens of flames to explode and transform into a sea of molten fire, burning the bones around Xuanyuan Zhanxian until they crackled!

But the cold-faced bladesman was even faster. He transformed into a streak of light, starting later but arriving first, surpassing all other attacks, his blade pointing straight at Xuanyuan Zhanxian's Dantian—he had long since seen through the fact that the root of all these strange changes lay right there!

"A group of ants, daring to covet this prince's belongings? Get lost!"

Second Prince Wu Yuanchen's sharp shout was like an ice pick piercing the bone, every word carrying bone-chilling killing intent.

His figure flickered like a ghost, actually moving a fraction faster than the blade light!

As his sleeves billowed, a purple-black palm print wreathed in corrosive black Qi manifested out of thin air—the palm print was as large as a millstone, surrounded by black Qi and carrying a nauseating, decaying aura. It not only swatted away the combined attack of the three from Penglai but, with its momentum undiminished, slammed fiercely into the bladesman who had already approached Xuanyuan Zhanxian!

The bladesman's pupils shrank, and he hastily changed his move to block with his blade horizontally.

Boom—! The palm print and the long blade collided violently.

The force of the Qi scattered like a raging tide; the ground cracked into countless fissures, and flying debris sprayed out like hidden weapons.

The bladesman felt an overwhelming, mountain-toppling force penetrate his body; the webbing between his thumb and index finger split, blood dripping, and his entire body was sent flying backward by the shock, slamming heavily into a giant stele, causing spiderweb-like cracks to appear on the surface of the stone.

He barely managed to stop his retreat; his throat felt sweet, blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, and his eyes were filled with shock.

Second Prince Wu Yuanchen did not even look at the people he had casually repelled.

In his narrow eyes, there was only the half-kneeling Xuanyuan Zhanxian.

His five fingers formed a claw, his spiritual power condensing into a tangible form, carrying a sharp whistle that tore through the Void Realm as it aimed straight for Xuanyuan Zhanxian's crown—he wanted to forcibly seize his cultivation and fortune, and devour that broken sword along with them!

"First Prince Wu Zhanxian, your life, and everything on you, shall belong to this prince today!"

All killing intent and all greed, at this moment, converged like a hundred rivers returning to the sea, all locked onto that dying figure.

He seemed to be fish on a chopping block, left to be slaughtered, with no possibility of turning the tables.

Xuanyuan Zhanxian slowly lifted his head.

Looking at the incoming claw of death, looking at the powerful enemies eyeing him covetously from all sides, looking at the tide of skeletons surrounding him once again from afar...

A faint curve slowly pulled across his blood-stained face.

The smile was very shallow, so shallow it was almost imperceptible.

Yet it carried an indescribable meaning—it seemed like despair, like mockery, and even more like a silent declaration: Greed always has a price.

No one noticed.

Inside his Dantian, the broken sword that had absorbed enough spiritual power, Death Qi, and killing intent was seeing its temperature rise crazily to the extreme!

A tiny crack quietly appeared on the sword body, and then—it spread.

Hum—!!!

A sword hum, as if coming from the ancient primordial era, suddenly resounded!

The sword hum was too bright; it was so bright that it didn't seem like sound, but rather light.

It pierced through their eardrums, reaching deep into their Divine Soul, exploding in everyone's Sea of Consciousness, shaking their consciousness until it trembled.

Whether it was Second Prince Wu Yuanchen, the Penglai Cultivators, the cold-faced bladesman, or that overwhelming, endless tide of skeletons—their movements all froze in unison.

It was as if they had been gripped by the throat by an invisible, giant hand.

The Eternal Graveyard fell into absolute silence.

Time seemed to freeze at this moment.

The instant the sword hum fell—the broken sword within Xuanyuan Zhanxian's Dantian exploded with a boom!

But it did not turn into fragments; instead, it shattered into billions of golden threads—those threads were as thin as hair but as bright as gold leaf, rushing against his Meridians like living things, piercing through his seven orifices, breaking through his skin, and gushing out from every pore of his body!

In an instant, Xuanyuan Zhanxian was enveloped by golden flames.

The flames were not hot, but they were dazzling. In the gray and dim graveyard, he was like a scorching sun that had fallen into the mortal world, brilliant and impossible to look at directly!

The golden threads intertwined and swirled in the air, and in an instant, they reorganized into an ancient, simple-looking long sword.

The blade was covered with cracks, as if it would shatter at a touch, as if it would disintegrate at any moment—yet what emanated from those cracks was a supreme sharpness capable of severing the galaxy and destroying all things!

That was a sharpness sufficient to change the color of the heavens and earth, a killing intent sufficient to make ghosts and gods weep.

"This is..."

Second Prince Wu Yuanchen's claw wind, which was tearing toward his crown, stiffened in mid-air.

His pupils shrank to pinpoints, and for the first time, shock appeared on his face—not caution, not vigilance, but genuine, bone-deep shock.

He clearly felt the fear coming from this golden sword, a fear originating from his Divine Soul's instincts, as if it were born to be his nemesis, as if its very existence were meant to suppress everything about him!

The killing moves of the three from Penglai melted away like snow the instant the golden sword formed.

Senior Brother Li Yunxiao exclaimed, his voice trembling: "An ancient Sword Embryo! He actually used his own body as a furnace to let that broken sword undergo Nirvana and Rebirth?!"

In the distance, the cold-faced bladesman gripped his sword hilt tightly, his knuckles as pale as bone.

In his eyes, burning heat and caution intertwined and surged—burning heat for the power of the Sword Embryo, and caution for the terrifying potential Xuanyuan Zhanxian was displaying at this moment.

Such a person, such a sword—if he were allowed to grow...

Xuanyuan Zhanxian slowly straightened his body.

His movements were very slow, so slow it seemed as if he were using all his strength. Yet every subtle movement carried a sense of oppression that one could not ignore.

His blood-stained face was devoid of joy or sorrow, only a pair of eyes—terrifyingly bright.

Like two burning sharp swords, they swept over everyone present.

He raised his hand and gently grasped the ancient sword reorganized from golden threads.

No gathering of momentum. No angry shout. He just swung it forward—plainly.

The movement was light and slow, like brushing dust off a table.

Yet, Second Prince Wu Yuanchen's purple-black palm print, which was capable of tearing apart a Golden Core and repelling the bladesman, vanished without a trace the moment it touched this faint sword wind—like smoke and dust.

It didn't even have a chance to struggle.

The sword wind did not stop, quietly sweeping past Second Prince Wu Yuanchen's arm.

Second Prince Wu Yuanchen only felt a chill on his arm—the chill was very light, so light it was like a snowflake landing on his skin.

Immediately—excruciating pain surged like a mountain-toppling sea!

He looked down and saw, on his arm, golden patterns spreading like a spiderweb.

Wherever they passed, his spiritual power was severed, his flesh fell away; those golden patterns were like living things, greedily devouring everything of his!

"Ah—!!!" A shrill scream pierced the silence.

Second Prince Wu Yuanchen stumbled backward, his face no longer calm or elegant, only naked fear and disbelief.

He could not understand.

How could Xuanyuan Zhanxian, who was just like an ant moments ago, waiting to be slaughtered, not only recover all his spiritual power in an instant, but also Breakthrough in one go to—the Middle Stage of the Golden Core!

The surrounding tide of skeletons was like spilled thick ink, surging continuously in layers.

Scrawny bone claws flickered in the dimness, emitting a heart-palpitating, eerie, cold light, as if they wanted to tear this world apart.

However—the instant the golden sword in Xuanyuan Zhanxian's hand swept across, all the clamor came to an abrupt halt.

The whole world seemed to be gripped by the throat.

Wherever the sword wind passed, the bones silently disintegrated, turning into fly ash that filled the sky and fell with a rustling sound.

The ashes were like snow, fluttering about, and in the impenetrable tide of corpses, it actually tore open a path leading to the depths of the graveyard.

On that path, the ground paved with bones trembled incessantly under the pressure of the golden sword, the bones colliding to make a faint "clatter-clatter" sound, as if bowing in submission to the sword wielder.

At the end of the road, a blue stone stele half-buried in the soil stood crookedly.

The stele was covered with vigorous cracks carved by time, as if it had been baptized by countless battles and eroded by countless storms.

Only the two characters "Four Symbols" on the stele pulsed like living things, and the low vibration emitted in resonance with the golden sword shook the surrounding bones until they shivered, as if even this tombstone, which had been sleeping for eternal ages, was trembling for the awakening of this sword.

"Want to take my life?"

The hoarse sound rolling from Xuanyuan Zhanxian's throat, every word sounding like metal grinding hard against a whetstone—rough, heavy, yet carrying a majesty that pierced the Soul, making people afraid to look directly at him.

He slowly lifted his eyes. His scarlet gaze swept over the terrified figures in front, the golden sword turning nimbly in his palm, the sword light flowing and illuminating his blood-stained face.

"You have to ask it."

The moment his voice fell, he strode forward with the sword.

The golden sword blade brushed across the ground paved with bones, the sparks splashing and leaping along the sword mark, and upon landing on the bones, they actually ignited eerie blue flames—the flames were cold, strange, and burned silently on the bones, as if an inextinguishable resentment had finally found an outlet for release.

Those skeletons that had been gathering frantically just moments ago were now frozen in place as if they had encountered a natural enemy.

The Soul fires flickering in their eye sockets swayed violently, dimming and brightening; although they were still half a zhang away from Xuanyuan Zhanxian, they seemed to be blocked by an invisible barrier, having lost even the courage to approach one step closer.

That was a trembling originating from the Origin of the Soul, a fear engraved in their very bones.

It was as if the person in front was not an ordinary Cultivator, but an Asura descending to the world to wield life and death, a nightmare they should never have awakened from in their million years of slumber.

Xuanyuan Zhanxian's footsteps were steady and slow.

Every step he took felt like a heavy hammer smashing into the frozen soil of the graveyard, shaking the bones beneath the ground until they churned, carrying a heavy momentum capable of crushing Reincarnation, and an overbearing arrogance.

The "hissing" sound of the golden sword slicing through bones, mixed with the "crackling" sound of the sparks burning, wove together into the most intimidating rhythm in this deathly silent Eternal Graveyard.

This sound overwhelmed the unwilling shrieks of the skeletons, drowned out the suppressed gasps of the Cultivators in the distance, and pressed so hard on the hearts of everyone present that they tightened into a knot, even their breathing becoming cautious.

Second Prince Wu Yuanchen covered his left arm tightly.

Under his sleeve, the glowing golden patterns were spreading like maggots attached to bones, every inch greedily devouring his spiritual power.

The excruciating pain caused cold sweat to stream down his forehead, sliding down his cheeks and dripping onto the bones beneath his feet, making a faint "drip-drop" sound.

His face was already ashen.